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It stands as the most memorable appearance in film history – while he stands without moving a muscle.

A young FBI agent, just starting out, must walk a row of prison cells finally encountering the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. There he stands, his face resembling a living skull radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile wearing a snug blue inmate uniform. He remains motionless until the moment he propels himself against the glass, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Numerous real-crime films have since demonstrated that genuine criminals tend to be quite dull, with nothing resembling Hopkins' commanding screen presence.

He wasn't exactly an unknown when he landed that Oscar-winning role in The Silence of the Lambs during the late 80s: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar emerged. His portrayal of Lecter was based, Hopkins notes with amusement in this new autobiography, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, as well as his strictly demanding drama teacher his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic in these moments; a difficult topic for Anthony, who further explains how his portrayal of Lear was indirectly affected by painful regret about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his failed first union in 1966 to his first wife, who resented him being away and drinking.

The memoir's title is derived from a vintage war-era photograph of a young Hopkins on the beach with his dad – the kid who maybe thought he would never do OK. He was a bewildered, isolated and sensitive child from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the standout secondary character here: a bread-maker and man's man, a direct communicator who loathed the Bible-punching hypocrites at the church and didn't believe in showing his emotions, but had a streak of wistful, tearful romanticism. It was Hopkins Sr who deeply disliked the way they had to go humbly to their wealthy relations such as Aunt Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the politician Nye Bevan and was able to secure Anthony as a boy into a posh school: “Due to their immense riches!” he raves in the car on the way there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The pleading was effective, for a time. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. Then, during in an English lesson he was required to perform John Masefield's poem titled The West Wind – sight unseen – and his talent emerged; he shocked the educator and the other boys. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, propelled him forward. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Notably, he graduated without much hope, went into acting, and amazingly to his parents, was acting with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in just ten years. He more or less did it on his own, although in those days financial aid was available for drama school – a way up for performers from modest means. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: when he asked Anthony to recite the Yorick speech from the play Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then retreated to another room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company out of frustration – causing Olivier's regret and criticism – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character as a suspected war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which eventually resulted to parts like that in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in cinema, which he preferred to the stage. And he quit booze in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and managed to live into his later years to achieve remarkable acting, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson alongside Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of the memoir he appears more reserved, more calculated. Certain stories doesn't quite come off. He mentions being taken out to lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who sought to advise him his acting as Nixon was falling short. Was this the opportunity for him to absorb advice from the renowned performer of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not exactly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated out of envy. Truly?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks you must to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and do the job. Indeed. Yet he also tells confronting an obnoxious director who brought a background actor to tears: “Say sorry to her! And learn some manners. Should you ever act that way near me, I'll alter your appearance!” He appears to be someone who gave up drink yet perhaps not the aggression that went with it. A classical performer like Hopkins is aware of Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! An honest mind and plain – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply